Friends,
I´ve been in my new site, Acuña de Figueroa, for about two weeks now. It´s a beautiful place located about two hours from Asunción. I´m living, for now, with a host family, and my host brother is also my principal work contact. His name´s Fernando, and he´s a beekeeper and a great guy.
The first few months of service are about getting to know one´s site, talking to people, making friends, getting a sense of what the community´s interests and needs are. Fernando´s been taking me around to meet neighbors, attending community group meetings (a young persons´ group and a farmer´s committee, for example); and I spent much of my time in the first week preparing and planting a vegetable garden. This week, though, it´s been raining cats and dogs (note: I said that in Spanish and Fernando thought it was a ridiculous phrase. When you think about it, it really is.) and I´m afraid my plants are drowning... luckily Paraguayan soil is really sandy and drains well.
The group of jovenes (young people, mostly high school age) and I are tentatively planning a big tree-planting project: Acuña is all dirt roads, but there is a big road construction project going on now, and in the process lots of trees were cut. We want to plant trees on both sides of the roads throughout the community. It would be a big project, but a worthy one, and the group really seems to be excited about it. I´ll keep you guys posted.
That´s all for now. There´s no internet in my site, so I will be checking e-mail and making updates probably with less frequency than in Bolivia, but I´ll do my best.
Finally, please note the disclaimer at the right column which affirms that my comments do not necessarily reflect the position of the Peace Corps, etc. etc.....
OBAMA!!!!!!! OBAMA!!!!!! OBAMA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Friday, November 7, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Safe, Sweaty and Happy in the Paraguay
Hey all. A couple of weeks of R & R on the home front were excellent. It was great to see my people again, drink bourbon whiskey, laugh and cringe at Sarah Palin, sit down at Heine Bros. and listen to the schizophrenic bearded guy pontificate... just like old times. Now, back to work.
I arrived in Paraguay last Thursday and it is hot here. Ridiculously hot. In fact, the other day I actually had a CSNY ¨Almost cut my hair¨ moment. (But I didn´t, and I wonder why, I feel the need to let my freak flag fly...) Anyway Paraguay is gorgeous, in a completely different way from Bolivia. Gone are the striking mountains, the vibrant indigenous Quechua culture; but here it is green and lush, the soil is brick red, and everyone just sits around and drinks cold tea all afternoon. It is beautiful and I am happy to be here.
Fellow Bolivia PCVs Andy and Natalie arrived with me, and the three of us have a two-week intensive orientation. We`re getting an intro to Guaraní, the indigenous language spoken by 97% of the Paraguayan population, as well as technical classes in our respective fields. I`m staying with a very nice host family -- incidentally, my host dad looks like my Pappy and even has a belly scar like Pappy did, from an emergency surgery last year. (I know, only a few days and he`s already showing you his belly scars? He walks around without his shirt on a lot. Did I mention it`s hot here?)
Paraguay`s agriculture program is impressive. Their crop extension program includes some really neat techniques, like green manures and contour planting, which I`m excited to try out in site. But the beekeeping component is the coolest part: In Bolivia, my biggest frustration as a beekeeping volunteer was that the modern Langstroth hives we were trained to work with are expensive, and require a lot of costly inputs. As a result, it is very difficult to work with poorer folks in the campo that can`t afford that equipment, unless one applies for a grant (and even that is restrictive, since your grant will probably only cover a few individuals). But Paraguay`s beekeeping program also trains volunteers in construction of Kenya Top Bar Hives (KTBH), which with a decent saw can be made locally, from most forms of sturdy wood. The Beekeeping Extension program also trains PCVs in construction of smokers from materials like tin condensed-milk cans, and bee veils from plastic netting and fabric. The bottom line is that Paraguay`s focus on low-input technology makes it possible for anyone who`s interested to participate, not just those who can afford the equipment or the few invited to be included in a project. Key word in Peace Corps: Sustainability. Check.
Sorry to ramble on, for those of you who are skimming just know I am safe and healthy, and looking forward to these next 18 months.
I guess it`s a strange decision, after being pulled out of Bolivia, to sign on for another year-plus in another South American country. What can I say? I guess I`m a Maverick.
In fact, one might say that the 3 of us Bolivia-Paraguay PCVs are a team of mavericks.
Peace.
Que viva la Pachamama,
que viva Cuerpo de Paz,
que viva mi patria Bolivia,
y que viva el Paraguay.
I arrived in Paraguay last Thursday and it is hot here. Ridiculously hot. In fact, the other day I actually had a CSNY ¨Almost cut my hair¨ moment. (But I didn´t, and I wonder why, I feel the need to let my freak flag fly...) Anyway Paraguay is gorgeous, in a completely different way from Bolivia. Gone are the striking mountains, the vibrant indigenous Quechua culture; but here it is green and lush, the soil is brick red, and everyone just sits around and drinks cold tea all afternoon. It is beautiful and I am happy to be here.
Fellow Bolivia PCVs Andy and Natalie arrived with me, and the three of us have a two-week intensive orientation. We`re getting an intro to Guaraní, the indigenous language spoken by 97% of the Paraguayan population, as well as technical classes in our respective fields. I`m staying with a very nice host family -- incidentally, my host dad looks like my Pappy and even has a belly scar like Pappy did, from an emergency surgery last year. (I know, only a few days and he`s already showing you his belly scars? He walks around without his shirt on a lot. Did I mention it`s hot here?)
Paraguay`s agriculture program is impressive. Their crop extension program includes some really neat techniques, like green manures and contour planting, which I`m excited to try out in site. But the beekeeping component is the coolest part: In Bolivia, my biggest frustration as a beekeeping volunteer was that the modern Langstroth hives we were trained to work with are expensive, and require a lot of costly inputs. As a result, it is very difficult to work with poorer folks in the campo that can`t afford that equipment, unless one applies for a grant (and even that is restrictive, since your grant will probably only cover a few individuals). But Paraguay`s beekeeping program also trains volunteers in construction of Kenya Top Bar Hives (KTBH), which with a decent saw can be made locally, from most forms of sturdy wood. The Beekeeping Extension program also trains PCVs in construction of smokers from materials like tin condensed-milk cans, and bee veils from plastic netting and fabric. The bottom line is that Paraguay`s focus on low-input technology makes it possible for anyone who`s interested to participate, not just those who can afford the equipment or the few invited to be included in a project. Key word in Peace Corps: Sustainability. Check.
Sorry to ramble on, for those of you who are skimming just know I am safe and healthy, and looking forward to these next 18 months.
I guess it`s a strange decision, after being pulled out of Bolivia, to sign on for another year-plus in another South American country. What can I say? I guess I`m a Maverick.
In fact, one might say that the 3 of us Bolivia-Paraguay PCVs are a team of mavericks.
Peace.
Que viva la Pachamama,
que viva Cuerpo de Paz,
que viva mi patria Bolivia,
y que viva el Paraguay.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Uncertain Roads
My head is spinning.
On the morning of Sept. 11, I was getting ready to make the 2-hour bike trip to visit Don Vicente's bees. His wife was out of town, which meant he was alone at home and forced to cook for himself: He thus had asked me to bring some eggs, so we could have something to eat. Around the world we men are helpless without women. I put the eggs in a ziploc, wrapped the ziploc in a towel and tucked the bundle away in my backpack, praying that at least a few would survive the bumpy ride to Vicente's. Unfortunately, I never got there.
I called Peace Corps to check in, because they had activated the Emergency Action Plan a day earlier. Since the EAP had been called already some seven times since I arrived to Bolivia, I wasn't too concerned. But, as it turned out, this time was different: Violence had erupted in Santa Cruz, Tarija, Pando and La Paz; Bolivian President Evo Morales accused the American ambassador, Philip Goldberg, of fomenting the violence by meeting with opposition departamental governors; Goldberg was thus declared persona non grata and ordered to leave the country. My bosses told me I was not allowed to leave my site, and to remain on standby until further notice.
At 4:30 p.m. my neighbor told me I had received an urgent call from Peace Corps. I called the central office in Cochabamba, and was told I must immediately get on a bus to Sucre, because all volunteers were to be consolidated in Coch. the following day. This left me about two hours to buy a bus ticket, say a few rushed, uncertain goodbyes and pack my things.
I was pretty certain it was over then. Unfortunately my best buddy Jorge was out of town at this time, and my counterpart Valerio was out working construction, so I wasn't able to give them the news or say goodbye. But my friend Valentina accompanied me while I packed my things and waited for the bus, and she knew from my face how serious the situation was. I got on the bus as the sun fell, put on my headphones to listen to one of my favorite Bruce Cockburn songs:
There's roads and there's roads, and they're calling, can't you hear it
Roads of the earth and roads of the spirit
The best roads of all are the ones that aren't certain
One of those is where you'll find me till they drop the big curtain
Hear the wind moan in the bright diamond sky
These mountains are calling, brown-green and dry
I'm too old for the term, but I'll use it anyway
I'll be a child of the wind till the end of my days
I looked out the bus window and saw the glow of an adobe stove, burning in someone's home across the river. From the circular opening in the stove, the fire glowed in a perfect disk, and I imagined it was that family's own little sun. Then the bus turned a corner and it was dark again.
We stayed in Cochabamba for a few days, and then on the 14th we were flown in a military C-130 to Lima, Peru. Once all the volunteers had arrived safely a day or so later, we were finally told the news: Peace Corps Bolivia had been suspended, and our service was over.
We were given a few options: 1) Close our service in good standing and return to the US; 2) opt to wait a few months and re-enroll for another 27 months in another country; or 3) apply for a spot to transfer directly to another post. A team of 9 Peace Corps staff members from Washington was flown in to organize this process. With 113 confused, frustrated, and demanding Peace Corps Volunteers to deal with, it was a bit complicated. But, more than a week later, our futures seem to be clear. Here's what I decided:
After eight months in Bolivia, things were actually starting to feel pretty good. I was becoming comfortable in my site, Sopachuy, had made some great friends, and the work was starting to make sense. The experience was just starting and I am not ready for it to be over. But I am also honestly not ready to commit to another 27 months. Thus I applied and was accepted to transfer to a program in Paraguay, where I will finish the remaining 18 months of my service working in their agriculture and beekeeping program.
The program starts October 8th, and Peace Corps has kindly offered to fly us all home to the US first, to wait for medical clearance and visa details to go through. So it looks like I'll be making an unexpected visit to the Ville for a week or so, to see family and friends, have a beer at Cumberland Brews, and get mentally ready for this next test.
It's been a tough couple of weeks, man. It was not easy to say goodbye to Sopachuy, and to all of my wonderful PCV friends. But all of this was out of my control, so I will try to accept it and look forward. And, despite everything, I am truly grateful for the experience in Bolivia. I don't regret anything.
See you guys soon.
On the morning of Sept. 11, I was getting ready to make the 2-hour bike trip to visit Don Vicente's bees. His wife was out of town, which meant he was alone at home and forced to cook for himself: He thus had asked me to bring some eggs, so we could have something to eat. Around the world we men are helpless without women. I put the eggs in a ziploc, wrapped the ziploc in a towel and tucked the bundle away in my backpack, praying that at least a few would survive the bumpy ride to Vicente's. Unfortunately, I never got there.
I called Peace Corps to check in, because they had activated the Emergency Action Plan a day earlier. Since the EAP had been called already some seven times since I arrived to Bolivia, I wasn't too concerned. But, as it turned out, this time was different: Violence had erupted in Santa Cruz, Tarija, Pando and La Paz; Bolivian President Evo Morales accused the American ambassador, Philip Goldberg, of fomenting the violence by meeting with opposition departamental governors; Goldberg was thus declared persona non grata and ordered to leave the country. My bosses told me I was not allowed to leave my site, and to remain on standby until further notice.
At 4:30 p.m. my neighbor told me I had received an urgent call from Peace Corps. I called the central office in Cochabamba, and was told I must immediately get on a bus to Sucre, because all volunteers were to be consolidated in Coch. the following day. This left me about two hours to buy a bus ticket, say a few rushed, uncertain goodbyes and pack my things.
I was pretty certain it was over then. Unfortunately my best buddy Jorge was out of town at this time, and my counterpart Valerio was out working construction, so I wasn't able to give them the news or say goodbye. But my friend Valentina accompanied me while I packed my things and waited for the bus, and she knew from my face how serious the situation was. I got on the bus as the sun fell, put on my headphones to listen to one of my favorite Bruce Cockburn songs:
There's roads and there's roads, and they're calling, can't you hear it
Roads of the earth and roads of the spirit
The best roads of all are the ones that aren't certain
One of those is where you'll find me till they drop the big curtain
Hear the wind moan in the bright diamond sky
These mountains are calling, brown-green and dry
I'm too old for the term, but I'll use it anyway
I'll be a child of the wind till the end of my days
I looked out the bus window and saw the glow of an adobe stove, burning in someone's home across the river. From the circular opening in the stove, the fire glowed in a perfect disk, and I imagined it was that family's own little sun. Then the bus turned a corner and it was dark again.
We stayed in Cochabamba for a few days, and then on the 14th we were flown in a military C-130 to Lima, Peru. Once all the volunteers had arrived safely a day or so later, we were finally told the news: Peace Corps Bolivia had been suspended, and our service was over.
We were given a few options: 1) Close our service in good standing and return to the US; 2) opt to wait a few months and re-enroll for another 27 months in another country; or 3) apply for a spot to transfer directly to another post. A team of 9 Peace Corps staff members from Washington was flown in to organize this process. With 113 confused, frustrated, and demanding Peace Corps Volunteers to deal with, it was a bit complicated. But, more than a week later, our futures seem to be clear. Here's what I decided:
After eight months in Bolivia, things were actually starting to feel pretty good. I was becoming comfortable in my site, Sopachuy, had made some great friends, and the work was starting to make sense. The experience was just starting and I am not ready for it to be over. But I am also honestly not ready to commit to another 27 months. Thus I applied and was accepted to transfer to a program in Paraguay, where I will finish the remaining 18 months of my service working in their agriculture and beekeeping program.
The program starts October 8th, and Peace Corps has kindly offered to fly us all home to the US first, to wait for medical clearance and visa details to go through. So it looks like I'll be making an unexpected visit to the Ville for a week or so, to see family and friends, have a beer at Cumberland Brews, and get mentally ready for this next test.
It's been a tough couple of weeks, man. It was not easy to say goodbye to Sopachuy, and to all of my wonderful PCV friends. But all of this was out of my control, so I will try to accept it and look forward. And, despite everything, I am truly grateful for the experience in Bolivia. I don't regret anything.
See you guys soon.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Consolidation: Relax and Refocus
Can it be September already? It seems like I just got off the plane in La Paz, clueless, scared and nursing an altitude headache. But that was seven months ago. Of course, when your work day is not ¨9:15-10:15 class, 10:25-11:55 meeting, 12-12:45 lunch...¨ but is rather composed of la mañana and la tarde (always with a siesta in between), time passes rather quickly.
It was an unusual August. Here in Bolivia there was a referendum election on Evo Morales´ presidency, and Peace Corps Washington was worried about possible civil unrest. So they consolidated all of PC Bolivia- 120 volunteers, plus staff - in the Rio Selva resort outside of Santa Cruz. The Rio Selva was easily the nicest hotel I have ever stayed in: Well-furnished cabins, pool, jacuzzi, sauna and steam room, basketball and volleyball courts, waiters who only take your plate away when you line up your fork and knife just so atop your plate. Needless to say, when I applied for Peace Corps, a swim-up bar was not exactly what I had in mind. But hey, I wasn´t paying (thanks, American taxpayers!), so I certainly wasn´t complaining, either. Of course, the staff lined up a full schedule of meetings and classes, but we also had time to relax. There were also evening events, including an open-mic night: My friend Jackie and I did a cool version of ¨Oh Susanna,¨ and later I played my tune ¨Well-wisher¨ (those who have heard this angsty justice-as-personal-responsibility manifesto can imagine that it went over well with a crowd of Peace Corps volunteers). There was even a cross-dressing dance: Conveniently I forgot to take pictures, just imagine the repercussions for my 2028 presidential run.
It was good to see everyone from my training class again, and also to meet some of the volunteers from earlier groups. Talking to other PCVs is almost always a therapeutic experience: We often chat with one another about the challenges and frustrations we are facing. The Peace Corps experience can be stressful, and just the ability to empathize with someone in a similar situation is helpful and necessary. It helps you to realize that you are not crazy, or alone. As one songwriter observed, one of the most comforting phrases we have is ¨me, too.¨ Equally encouraging was the opportunity to meet some of the more experienced volunteers, who have overcome the initial growing pains and are now comfortable, successful PCVs.
Along with being a nice break (and a huge expense for Peace Corps - the elections passed without serious incidents), consolidation was a chance to refocus and plan for the next few months in Sopachuy. I´ve been back in site now for a couple of weeks, and am starting to branch out a little more: Making worm compost with a local girls´ school, learning play racquetball (surprisingly, a very popular sport in Bolivia), planning visits to the campo with beekeepers and farmers.
After four months in site, I have gotten my bearings and am settling in. I have a feeling these next few months will be more productive, and tranquilo (assuming the political situation remains stable). Of course, there will be some surprises. But I´m looking forward to those, too.
Best wishes to all in the Ville. Rocks, BEAT ST. X. Everybody watch the presidential debates and then go vote. (For change.) Peace!
It was an unusual August. Here in Bolivia there was a referendum election on Evo Morales´ presidency, and Peace Corps Washington was worried about possible civil unrest. So they consolidated all of PC Bolivia- 120 volunteers, plus staff - in the Rio Selva resort outside of Santa Cruz. The Rio Selva was easily the nicest hotel I have ever stayed in: Well-furnished cabins, pool, jacuzzi, sauna and steam room, basketball and volleyball courts, waiters who only take your plate away when you line up your fork and knife just so atop your plate. Needless to say, when I applied for Peace Corps, a swim-up bar was not exactly what I had in mind. But hey, I wasn´t paying (thanks, American taxpayers!), so I certainly wasn´t complaining, either. Of course, the staff lined up a full schedule of meetings and classes, but we also had time to relax. There were also evening events, including an open-mic night: My friend Jackie and I did a cool version of ¨Oh Susanna,¨ and later I played my tune ¨Well-wisher¨ (those who have heard this angsty justice-as-personal-responsibility manifesto can imagine that it went over well with a crowd of Peace Corps volunteers). There was even a cross-dressing dance: Conveniently I forgot to take pictures, just imagine the repercussions for my 2028 presidential run.
It was good to see everyone from my training class again, and also to meet some of the volunteers from earlier groups. Talking to other PCVs is almost always a therapeutic experience: We often chat with one another about the challenges and frustrations we are facing. The Peace Corps experience can be stressful, and just the ability to empathize with someone in a similar situation is helpful and necessary. It helps you to realize that you are not crazy, or alone. As one songwriter observed, one of the most comforting phrases we have is ¨me, too.¨ Equally encouraging was the opportunity to meet some of the more experienced volunteers, who have overcome the initial growing pains and are now comfortable, successful PCVs.
Along with being a nice break (and a huge expense for Peace Corps - the elections passed without serious incidents), consolidation was a chance to refocus and plan for the next few months in Sopachuy. I´ve been back in site now for a couple of weeks, and am starting to branch out a little more: Making worm compost with a local girls´ school, learning play racquetball (surprisingly, a very popular sport in Bolivia), planning visits to the campo with beekeepers and farmers.
After four months in site, I have gotten my bearings and am settling in. I have a feeling these next few months will be more productive, and tranquilo (assuming the political situation remains stable). Of course, there will be some surprises. But I´m looking forward to those, too.
Best wishes to all in the Ville. Rocks, BEAT ST. X. Everybody watch the presidential debates and then go vote. (For change.) Peace!
Monday, August 4, 2008
This is Sopachuy
Hey all. Sorry for the delay in photos. Enjoy...
I live in a very ugly place.
Me and my pueblo.
Slovak volunteer Barbora and me in the new forage garden.
Siesta.
Whoa.
My two best friends in Bolivia: PCV Ben and Sopachueño Jorge.
Jorge testing out the honey shampoo on my domepiece in my kitchen (behind, PCV Lebo and Sopachuy Slovak volunteer Barbora). I insisted on being the guinea pig in case the stuff made your hair fall out. It did not.
The main plaza in Sopachuy.
Our stand at the Sopachuy Agricultural Fair, where we sold honey shampoo, lip balm, propolis and honey. The guys in the hats are my work partners Vicente (left) and Valerio. Thursday, July 31, 2008
An Act of Cultural Arrogance?
Mil disculpas for the delayed update. Excuses: We were busy getting ready for the Feria, and then really not too much has happened in the last couple of weeks. We are in the heart of the dry season, and the bees are not doing much of anything because of a lack of nectar flow.
The forage crops garden is coming along relatively well, although I made a tactical error in planting: Some of the seeds we planted in standard rows, but others we simply scattered al voleo (broadcasting method). At Ivor´s farm we planted all the fields in rye as an end-of-season cover crop, and simply scattered them without covering; therefore I followed the same method here in our garden. But it seems that the broadcasted, uncovered seeds were eaten by birds: I failed to take into account that in larger fields the amount of seed consumed will be negligible, but in a small garden a couple of birds can eat every last semilla. Two Sopachueños warned me of that danger when we planted, but I ignored their advice based on my own experience. Moral of this story: Bolivian farmers know what they´re doing! They´ve been farming this land all their lives and know its intricacies much better than a foreigner with one year of agricultural experience. Luckily, we hedged our bets and the other half of the seeds, planted by Don Tomas in the traditional rows, are doing just fine.
Naturalist writer Edward Abbey once referred to the Peace Corps as ¨an act of cultural arrogance.¨ He was referring to the tendency of young American idealists to think that, as ¨civilized, well-educated¨ people, they can simply arrive in the Third World and ¨help¨ the poor, ignorant locals to improve their lives. They quickly learn that, as suburbanized housecats with little technical experience and no grasp of local customs and intricacies, they have little of substance to offer and instead much to learn from the supposedly ¨backward¨ peoples they came to help. Bellarmine President Joseph McGowan also once referred to this phenomenon as ¨the Peace Corps syndrome.¨ (Of course, given the extravagant mansion Dr. McGowan lives in, I take his advice on social justice with a grain of salt...)
Of course, Abbey´s indictment is not unequivocally true: Since the Peace Corps is defined principally by the actions of individual Peace Corps volunteers, whether or not PC service is an act of cultural arrogance depends in each case on the actions and mindset of the volunteer. I, for one, struggled with this problem before coming to Bolivia: Even though I postponed my PC assignment by a year in order to gain some agricultural experience working for Ivor, still I knew that with one year of experience in Louisville, Kentucky I would have little to ¨teach¨ Bolivian farmers who have been working the land their whole lives, and who are following generations of local knowledge handed down by their forebears.
With that in mind, you might be wondering, what are we doing here? Why not instead use the American citizens´tax dollars to fund international NGO´s or government social programs? Well, for me, part of the answer has to do with the value of giving one´s time. Some of the most lasting benefits that Peace Corps Volunteers can offer come from their simple willingness to leave the familiar, comfortable life in the USA and spend two years living in a foreign place, learning the language, participating in traditional customs, working together with local folks. In this way, we show a great deal of respect to people that aren´t used to receiving much respect. Sending a check does not achieve the same effect.
Of course, cultural interchange is not the whole story. The projects matter a great deal, and Peace Corps Volunteers can in fact offer substantial support to communities through their work. Admittedly, generally speaking we are not experts and will probably fail as much as we succeed (e.g. my al voleo planting). But then failure is also a very good teacher, a stern tamer of cultural arrogance.
These are a few preliminary thoughts on what is for me still an open question. Maybe after two years of service my ideas will be clearer. I would appreciate any thoughts you guys have on the subject...
In the mean time, assuming the road blocks are lifted I am heading to Sucre this weekend, so I hold out again the possibility of finally posting some Sopachuy pics for you all to see. Be well and never stop questioning yourself!
The forage crops garden is coming along relatively well, although I made a tactical error in planting: Some of the seeds we planted in standard rows, but others we simply scattered al voleo (broadcasting method). At Ivor´s farm we planted all the fields in rye as an end-of-season cover crop, and simply scattered them without covering; therefore I followed the same method here in our garden. But it seems that the broadcasted, uncovered seeds were eaten by birds: I failed to take into account that in larger fields the amount of seed consumed will be negligible, but in a small garden a couple of birds can eat every last semilla. Two Sopachueños warned me of that danger when we planted, but I ignored their advice based on my own experience. Moral of this story: Bolivian farmers know what they´re doing! They´ve been farming this land all their lives and know its intricacies much better than a foreigner with one year of agricultural experience. Luckily, we hedged our bets and the other half of the seeds, planted by Don Tomas in the traditional rows, are doing just fine.
Naturalist writer Edward Abbey once referred to the Peace Corps as ¨an act of cultural arrogance.¨ He was referring to the tendency of young American idealists to think that, as ¨civilized, well-educated¨ people, they can simply arrive in the Third World and ¨help¨ the poor, ignorant locals to improve their lives. They quickly learn that, as suburbanized housecats with little technical experience and no grasp of local customs and intricacies, they have little of substance to offer and instead much to learn from the supposedly ¨backward¨ peoples they came to help. Bellarmine President Joseph McGowan also once referred to this phenomenon as ¨the Peace Corps syndrome.¨ (Of course, given the extravagant mansion Dr. McGowan lives in, I take his advice on social justice with a grain of salt...)
Of course, Abbey´s indictment is not unequivocally true: Since the Peace Corps is defined principally by the actions of individual Peace Corps volunteers, whether or not PC service is an act of cultural arrogance depends in each case on the actions and mindset of the volunteer. I, for one, struggled with this problem before coming to Bolivia: Even though I postponed my PC assignment by a year in order to gain some agricultural experience working for Ivor, still I knew that with one year of experience in Louisville, Kentucky I would have little to ¨teach¨ Bolivian farmers who have been working the land their whole lives, and who are following generations of local knowledge handed down by their forebears.
With that in mind, you might be wondering, what are we doing here? Why not instead use the American citizens´tax dollars to fund international NGO´s or government social programs? Well, for me, part of the answer has to do with the value of giving one´s time. Some of the most lasting benefits that Peace Corps Volunteers can offer come from their simple willingness to leave the familiar, comfortable life in the USA and spend two years living in a foreign place, learning the language, participating in traditional customs, working together with local folks. In this way, we show a great deal of respect to people that aren´t used to receiving much respect. Sending a check does not achieve the same effect.
Of course, cultural interchange is not the whole story. The projects matter a great deal, and Peace Corps Volunteers can in fact offer substantial support to communities through their work. Admittedly, generally speaking we are not experts and will probably fail as much as we succeed (e.g. my al voleo planting). But then failure is also a very good teacher, a stern tamer of cultural arrogance.
These are a few preliminary thoughts on what is for me still an open question. Maybe after two years of service my ideas will be clearer. I would appreciate any thoughts you guys have on the subject...
In the mean time, assuming the road blocks are lifted I am heading to Sucre this weekend, so I hold out again the possibility of finally posting some Sopachuy pics for you all to see. Be well and never stop questioning yourself!
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
La Musica Increíble de los Años Ochenta
Hello there...
Here in Sopachuy we are still getting ready for the Feria and prepping the garden... not much new to report work-wise, relatively busy and happy, especially now that I am free of that maldito skin rash. I am working on A Confederacy of Dunces, my seventh book since I arrived in site as many weeks ago. Also halfway through 3 separate songs... hopefully at least one will turn into something, I am hedging my bets!
We celebrated Daniela´s 3rd birthday yesterday, Valentina´s little girl... typical kid party, lots of running and cake. They blasted a DVD of American music videos from the 1980´s -- I was ecstatic to revisit such musical gems as Rock Me Amadeus, Somebody´s Watching Me, We are the World, If You Want my Body, the Grease Mega Mix, I Was Made for Loving You, and Who Can it Be Now. (I will admit, however, that ¨Take on Me¨ is a guilty pleasure.) I was the tallest so I suspended the piñata while the kids waited underneath like a pack of ravenous hyenas. Then we sat around and drank beer, and the participating in the conversation became more and more challenging with each glass. But it was a good time.
More soon.
Here in Sopachuy we are still getting ready for the Feria and prepping the garden... not much new to report work-wise, relatively busy and happy, especially now that I am free of that maldito skin rash. I am working on A Confederacy of Dunces, my seventh book since I arrived in site as many weeks ago. Also halfway through 3 separate songs... hopefully at least one will turn into something, I am hedging my bets!
We celebrated Daniela´s 3rd birthday yesterday, Valentina´s little girl... typical kid party, lots of running and cake. They blasted a DVD of American music videos from the 1980´s -- I was ecstatic to revisit such musical gems as Rock Me Amadeus, Somebody´s Watching Me, We are the World, If You Want my Body, the Grease Mega Mix, I Was Made for Loving You, and Who Can it Be Now. (I will admit, however, that ¨Take on Me¨ is a guilty pleasure.) I was the tallest so I suspended the piñata while the kids waited underneath like a pack of ravenous hyenas. Then we sat around and drank beer, and the participating in the conversation became more and more challenging with each glass. But it was a good time.
More soon.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
